


Strange Reality

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Actors, Complicated Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Human AU, I'm Sorry, Musicians, Reality TV, TV personalities, Writers, another stupid idea from me, big brother like show, reality show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Bog is forced to participate in a Celebrity reality show





	Strange Reality

“Tonight is the first episode of Celebrity HouseMates! I’m your host, Pare Markets!” 

Pare grinned into the camera showing off his hundred watt smile that he had spent a great deal of money on. Pare Markets was a large man who had at one time been an all-star quarterback in the NFL. He was accustomed to cameras and knew how to play up his best features. Despite having been out of the game for several years, he had maintained his football player physique. He sat on a stool wearing a tailored grey suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, and his smile almost too white to be real. He gazed into the camera, his dark hazel eyes bright as the scene behind him showed a video of the contestants for this season’s participants entering the house where they would be staying, cut off from the rest of the world; their only company each other and the host for the next five weeks. 

Pare smiled at the camera after making sure to let his gaze linger on the studio audience, making direct eye contact with a few lovely ladies and one in particular--his new wife Lizzie. He gave her a wink that had his new bride blushing and giggling. Having Lizzie in the audience helped Pare maintain his happy and excited attitude. He turned back to the cameras. 

“Now, let’s introduce our contestants who are all playing for half a million dollars for the charity of their choice.” Pare turned toward the screen as a photograph filled the space. 

“Our first contestant is Bog King, famous author of dozens of books of fiction, but most recently our dedicated author has shot to fame with the television series adaptation of his series of novels “Strange Magic.” 

The picture showed a tall, thin man with sharp features, a long chin covered in black stubble, long sharp nose, crooked teeth, and thick black hair that was brushed back from his forehead, but with a stubborn lock that fell across his brow. The man had exceptionally startling blue eyes that looked back at the camera with an air of vulnerability that was at odds with the grumpy expression on his face. 

Pare continued. “Bog King is from Scotland, but in the last year has made our own lovely Los Angeles his home. Bog King is thirty-five years old and never married--though he was engaged to the young Scottish starlet Lonnie James, now a bigger star after a series of highly popular and highly criticized erotica films.” An image of Lonnie James appeared next to Bog King. She was a tall slender blonde, but that image was quickly replaced with a more recent image showing that Miss James had gone through several plastic surgery enhancements. She was now quite voluminous with larger than normal breasts, bigger hips, fuller lips, a more sculpted face and thinner, more pointed nose. In the image, she had her arm around her co-star, a man named Hamilton Brown. Pare continued. “James’ and King’s had a very public break up when Mr. King was simply a well-known author and Miss James was struggling to become an actress having just moved to Hollywood 

that year. Mr. King was visiting her when their breakup occurred. The scandal was all over the news six years ago when Miss James loudly and drunkenly called Mr. King hideous at the Vanity Fair after Oscar party in which she threw her shoes at him and had to be escorted out in a drunken state, all while yelling at other guests as well. She was later jailed on drug charges and public intoxication, but turned herself around after the release of the first Pretty Poison films. Mr. King had gone back to Scotland not to be heard from again publicly, though he continued to publish novels. It was not until the popularity of his Strange Magic novels and the following television series that Mr. King was brought back into the spotlight.” 

Bog King’s picture was clicked away and replaced by the image of a beautiful brunette sporting a pixie haircut with dark purple streaks through her hair, large hazel brown eyes, a rosebud mouth painted purple, and petite nose. She was smiling in a way that was both charming and defiant. 

“Our second contestant is Marianne Summerfield, age 27, the lead actress in the world-wide popular television show, Strange Magic based on Mr. Bog King’s series of books. Miss Summerfield’s fame has shot up in recent years because of her work on the Strange Magic television series and her budding musical career. Miss Summerfield has recently released her first single “Never Fall in Love” and it is climbing the charts, having just recently broken into the Top 40 charts! Marianne has also had her own romantic troubles, having broken off her engagement just two years ago from TV personality and model Roland Knight, who is also one of our house guests.”

The audience all made noises of shock. Pare grinned as he continued. “Roland Knight, age 29, known for his many TV appearances on reality shows such as Model vs. Model, his first TV appearance in which Roland Knight shot to fame after winning that show and a multimillion dollar modeling contract. He’s also appeared on Danger Island, Cook or Die, Star Studded Bachelor, Dance with Me, and most recently on Celebrity Blind Date. Along with Marianne Summerfield and Roland Knight we also have…” 

The image was replaced by a young, slender, blonde with short hair and large blue eyes. The young woman had an all around fresh look, with that sweet girl next door innocence. “Dawn Summerfield, age 24, younger sister to Marianne Summerfield and one of the most popular models out there at the moment after winning this year’s Model vs. Model competition. Dawn Summerfield is single, and I might add, an extremely sweet person. She, like her sister Marianne, is starting off on her own recording career with the release of her single, “Summertime Love.” Another picture popped onto the screen of an older woman with light blue hair in long braids on either side of her head, big blue eyes and a pixie overall look, wearing a great deal of jewelry. “Our next guest is psychic to the stars, Aura “Sugar Plum” Strange, age 40. Aura is known for her show, “Reading the Stars!” 

Aura’s image was replaced with a photo of a large bald man with skin the color of warm chocolate and matching brown eyes. The man looked to be made mostly of muscles. Pare grinned enthusiastically. “We also have staying in the house, Brutus Roundhouse, age 35, pro wrestler who has just started off his acting career with the extremely successful film, the first of a new series of action movies, “Smash and Grab!” 

The next image showed a young man with toffee colored skin, a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, light amber eyes and sun streaked dreadlocks pulled back into a high ponytail. Pare smiled, leaning into his microphone. “Next we have Sunny Benoit, also known as the popular DJ and singer “Ensoleillé!” The crowd clapped with enthusiasm. Sunny was quite popular and had been quite a catch by the producers of the show. Pare smiled. “Sunny is single and has just started his production career by producing Dawn Summerfield’s first album!” 

Pare grinned as the next image dominated the screen behind him, one of the more popular celebrities catches for this season. This photo was of a young person of unknown gender with a mop of white hair and dark, almost black eyes outlined in thick black eyeliner. They were skinny, a little on the short side, wearing tight silver leather pants, high heeled red boots and a shredded Aerosmith t-shirt. 

“We are very excited to have the most popular up and coming rock stars joining us, the youngest member of our house this season, who goes only by the name IMP!” 

The studio audience clapped. Pare read through the rest of the introductions, a group of mostly minor celebrities from television and film, but no one as well known or currently as popular as the eight guests he had just named. 

Pare’s grin was still set firmly on his lips. This was looking to be the most popular season of Celebrity HouseMates ever. 

* 

Bog King, dressed simply in a pair of jeans, black boots, a light blue dress shirt and tweed blazer, was the first one to enter the house. He frowned as he stepped through the door. His backpack was over one shoulder, and two suitcases held in his other long-fingered hand. He stood just in the doorway looking around his nose wrinkled. The place was ultra modern looking using a lot of glass and mirrored surfaces for decoration, the colors that dominated the living space were orange and grey. Bog sighed with a single thought--disgusting. None of the main rooms had doors, only glass walls so that everyone could see everything nearly all of the time. The couches were long and curved with only one or two individual chairs and only one loveseat that was barely big enough for two people. He was sure the set up was all there to encourage the occupants to mingle. 

Bog glanced around; he didn’t see the cameras, but he knew they were there, hidden away to capture everything that went on in the house. He sighed. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be doing this at all, but his publicist, the producers of the show based on his book, and even his own mother (who was sure he would meet his future wife by doing this monstrosity of television) pushed him to participate, especially since the young woman playing the main character of the series, based on his books, was doing the show as well. His publicist had said the fans would love to see the two of them talking, interacting. It would be great publicity. It was a great opportunity to plug the show, a great chance for him to be seen (though he had told them all--quite bitterly--that was the reason he had become a writer was so he wouldn’t have to be seen!) It was, they all had clamored, a chance for him to meet the actress who was bringing the heroine from his books, the elf Mara, to life. The only reason he was doing this ridiculous show at all wasn’t because of their constant nagging, or to meet Marianne Summerfield who he wasn’t the least bit interested in (as he told himself constantly. He hated actresses he told himself even if she did look exactly like this character, the fictional image of the perfect woman to him, brave, strong, and a woman who didn’t need anyone. Though he had never told a soul that little bit of information), but rather because of the money he might win if he did this stupid reality show. Bog could donate it to his favored charity, the Scottish Cancer Foundation--so he had agreed. He had been giving money to that charity since the death of his father. This was a chance for him to make a significant donation and he intended to win because that money would help fund the additional building that he wanted the foundation to have, a building in his father’s name, a memorial to his father. 

The tall author walked into the empty house and headed toward the one hall that he assumed led to the bedrooms and the bathrooms of this large, open torture device that he was going to be subjected to for the next five weeks. 

As Bog made his way down the small hall, he poked his head in the open door of each of the open bedrooms, wrinkling his nose as he went. Each room had a set of three to five beds. That was going to be torture, sleeping in a room with complete strangers Bog thought. He also thought that his publicist and the producers of his show were going to hear all about this when he got out of this place, hopefully alive. He wasn’t too sure about the last one. Bog made it a point to stay away from people, especially after his very public breakup. He was a private person and the one time he had let himself be out among people was when he had his heart shredded, all in front of hundreds of people and cameras--and subsequently viewed by millions of people afterwards. He had pulled back after that, throwing himself into writing and avoiding the public eye. He hadn’t wanted to move to the States, but with the show and his contract for additional books, and the episodes he was helping to adapt, he had realized it would be better if he was on hand to help with the show instead of trying to do everything over the phone or video chat. He had moved here because the book series and the television show meant a great deal to him; the story he was writing meant a great deal and he wanted it done correctly. Bog rolled his eyes at himself and continued down the hall poking his head into the other rooms. One of the rooms was clearly supposed to appeal to the young women in the group, as it had been decorated in all pinks and whites. 

Bog muttered, “Sexist.” 

He moved on. Another room was done all in red and white. He squinted; the colors made his eyes hurt. The next room was decorated in shades of blue and gold, reminding Bog of a variety sports team colors. The last room room was actually nice, he decided. The colors were all shades of dark green and muted gold, making the room warm and cozy. Bog stepped in and looked around with the first smile that had graced his lips that day. The room contained five beds, but they were spaced out enough that he thought he might be able to suffer the other guests in the room. He walked over to the bed in the far left corner, dropping his things on it, and claiming it as his own. 

* 

Marianne and Dawn Summerfield entered a few minutes after Bog King, completely missing him as he had set off down the hall toward the bedrooms. Dawn was grinning brightly as she whispered to her sister, aware of the cameras that were littered throughout the house, and hoping that none of them could pick up her voice as she leaned close to her sister, whispering against her ear. “Oh, I can’t wait for Sunny to arrive!” 

Marianne grinned at her sister and hissed back against Dawn’s ear, sure that the viewing audience was having a fit wondering what the two of them were whispering about. “You two are crazy to be doing this a week after you got married. I don’t know how you expect to keep it secret.” 

Dawn giggled again. “I know, but we we’re both had already accepted the offers before we decided to elope.” 

“Well, let’s hope you can at least share a bedroom,” Marianne muttered as she carried her bags in and looked around. “Seems like we are the first to arrive.” She frowned, taking in the place that was to be her home for the next several weeks. “Well, this is...open.” 

Dawn laughed. “Come on, let’s go get our room before the others show up! First choice!” 

The two sisters laughed and hurried down the hall, inspecting each of the rooms, giving each other shared looks of disgust until they came to the last room. 

Marianne walked in with a grin. “Oh, I like this one. The colors are nice and calming, and not bright! I hate bright colors.” 

Dawn groaned. “Marianne geez…” 

They both were surprised when a tall, lean shadow separated itself from the corner of the room to reply in a thick Scottish accent. 

“I found the colors soothing as well.” Dawn, who had been putting her things on the bed near the door nearly shrieked. Marianne, who had just placed her things on the bed next to the corner bed where the tall shadow had separated from the deeper darkness of the corner, was barely able to stop herself from letting out a little shriek of surprise herself. 

Marianne paled. “I’m so sorry; we didn’t see you.” She then blinked in surprise. She recognized the man’s face, knew who this was! 

Bog shrugged. “I’m used to not being noticed.” He stepped over to the sisters put out his hand to Marianne. “Bog King.” 

Marianne took his hand in her much smaller one. His was slightly rough, though the fingers of his hand were long and elegant with a slight warmth that felt nice. Marianne glanced down at his hand. She had never thought about what a writer’s hands would look like, but right now, she was certain that King’s hands looked like the hands of a writer. 

She glanced back up and had to stop herself from another startled gasp when she looked into his eyes that were so blue, she wasn’t certain if they were real! Not just any blue, but a shade of blue that made her think of clear spring days, lying on her back on grass so green...childhood days where everything was beautiful and innocent, when all dreams were possible. Or maybe his eyes made her think of magical kingdoms where the weather was always summer and dreams came true. She smiled, a place like the Summer Kingdoms in Bog King’s Strange Magic books. 

She knew the man had blue eyes, had seen his photo a billion times on the jacket of his books. She had been a fan of his work even before the television adaptation. When she had heard that a show was being made based on King’s book series, Marianne had stalked the studio waiting for the audition announcements. She had been determined to play Mara, the main character. She related to the young elven princess so much, unlucky in love, determined to be her own person, strong, yet sensitive, scared, yet a fighter. Mara was everything Marianne hoped to be. Marianne hadn’t actually met King in person yet. She was always somehow missing him whenever he was on set, which was quite often, but it was either when she was in the middle of filming or going over lines or in makeup. It was as if he would simply vanish the moment she was free to speak to him. Marianne would always hear he had been on set after the fact; the man had floated in and off the set like a ghost. The photos she had seen of Bog King, however, did a disservice to him. They showed a slightly ruffled, grumpy looking man glaring back from the back jacket of a book. You could feel a presence from the photographs of him, but in reality his presence and his eyes were much more intense than the images had ever hinted at. His eyes were so full of emotion, emotions that seemed to her to be fighting with the veneer of “I don’t care about anything” attitude that Bog King wore like a shield. But Marianne could tell instantly that persona wasn’t the true Bog King. Judging by this man’s eyes, he cared, and cared a great deal. This man had a heart, a delicate heart that he was keeping protected in a shell of iron. She didn’t know how she knew that, but it was all there in his eyes. Maybe a little too poetic, she chided herself, but still, one only had to look to see what she saw in his eyes. 

The pictures also didn’t show just how handsome the man was, though he wasn’t classically handsome like her ex-fiance. Roland had all the women swooning over his blond hair, green eyes, dimpled chin, and perfect smile. No, Bog King was handsome in a completely different way. There was something slightly dangerous about the writer. Marianne wasn’t sure what it was that made her feel that getting Bog King in a fight would not go well for the person who started it. And there was something else about him, something vulnerable about Bog King that stirred things in her that she had thought she had put to bed with the breakup of her relationship with Roland. Marianne found it all very confusing. 

Marianne swallowed and smiled. “I know who you are: Bog King the author. I’m Mar…” 

“Marianne Summerfield, the actress playing Mara in the show based on my books. I know.” A small smile touched his lips. 

Bog felt exposed when he took her hand in greeting, as if this petite woman could read into his soul just by looking at him, touching him. When he had first seen her photograph, he had known she was his Mara; there was no doubt in his mind that she was perfect for the role. Not just because she looked like his character, but before he saw her audition, he had seen the fire in her eyes. And now that he was here with her, his hand in hers, looking into her face (as well as watching her performance on the show), he knew he had been correct in pushing for the role to go to her. That fire he had seen in her eyes was even more vivid in reality. He would gladly let her burn him alive with her flames. Bog steadied himself. He never wanted Marianne to know his role in getting her hired, never wanted her to know that she embodied his dream girl. 

Marianne swallowed hard. His voice!!! She had not actually heard him speak before, but the author’s accent made her knees weak. She had known he was Scottish, but knowing it and hearing it were two completely different things! His voice was warm and honeyed, making her want to shiver and melt at the same time. She wanted him to speak more; she didn’t care what it was he said, she just wanted him to say whatever it was a lot. She couldn’t imagine what having him whisper in her ear would be like! Marianne tried to hide her reaction to his voice when she noticed that Bog was struggling not to smile too much, either that or smiling was not something he was used to doing. He continued to hold her hand while he seemed to be struggling to find the right facial expression before he settled on bored. 

She smiled. “I hope you like my portrayal.” 

Bog bit his lip for a moment--not realizing when he began to rub his thumb along her hand--before he replied with a shrug. “It’s ah...good, very good. You fit the role of Mara perfectly.” He gave her a nervous smile. 

Bog’s heart was pounding. He glanced down seeing that he was still holding her hand, his thumb stroking her hand...shit! Bog snatched his hand back too quickly, but in an attempt to cover that he had yanked his hand away, Bog reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“So, ah, did the producers convince you to participate in this mess?” Bog asked nervously. 

Marianne nodded with a smile. “Yeah, they thought it would be good for the show.” 

Bog nodded, feeling awkward. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands so he tried to slowly bring his hand down from the back of his neck to slide both hands into the back pockets of his pants to prevent himself from flailing them around awkwardly. 

He took a breath before he replied. “Yes, me too. Though the prize money was also a motivation.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, it would be nice to make a big donation to my favorite charity.” 

Bog nodded in agreement. “Yes, authors don’t make as much money as everyone seems to think we do, even with a series of my books being made for television.” 

Marianne smiled. “Well, ah…” 

She turned to see her sister sitting cross-legged on her bed watching them with wide eyes and a cute smile, her hands on her feet. 

“Oh yes, ah, this is my sister Dawn. Ah, she’s um, a singer.” Dawn cringed at her sister’s awkward introduction. 

Dawn hopped up and hurried over with her hand out. “HI! I’m Dawn, nice to meet you!” 

Bog looked taken aback by her enthusiasm, but he took her hand delicately in his. “Bog.” 

She smiled brightly. “Oh Bog is such an unusual name! I love it!! I remember my sister reading all of your books. She has all of them at home on a…” 

Marianne gasped. “Dawn!” she exclaimed before she quickly calmed herself. “That’s enough Dawn. I’m sure Mr. King is tired...like us.” 

Dawn giggled. “Oh yeah. It's so cool that we are all going to share a room!” 

Bog frowned “If you would like me to leave, I can take another roo…” 

Marianne put her hands up and shook her head. “Oh no, no. Please stay.” Marianne smiled at him. “Ah, I’ll um, take the bed right next yours if that is all right. Maybe we could discuss Mara, the books...” 

Bog smiled at that, a little relieved that she was going to be in the bed next to his. At least it wasn’t going to be someone he couldn’t stand, and having her next to him might even be pleasant. “That would be fine.” 

They all turned when they heard the footsteps of someone to see another person stop in the doorway. 

“Oh hey, I thought I was the first to arrive.” Sunny grinned. 

Dawn’s eyes wandered hungirly over her new husband. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks, black Converse, a white t-shirt and a light brown jacket over the top. Holding his long dreadlocks back--which still fell down past his shoulders--was a red cloth. It took a great deal of willpower for Dawn not to throw herself at her brand new husband. Their eyes met, but neither of them did anything else to show that there was any sort of relationship between them. Sunny simply walked the rest of the way into the room carrying his bags over to the bed next to Dawn’s. 

“Hi, I’m Sunny. Don’t know if any of you have heard of me, I’m a Dj.” 

Dawn chirped. “I’m Dawn, model and singer.” 

“Marianne, actress and singer.” Marianne smiled. 

“Bog, author,” Bog said with a nod, then stepped over to his bed and began opening his suitcase. 

“Well, nice to meet you all,” Sunny said feeling awkward as he glanced over at Dawn who was trying not to smile too much, or to shoot flirty gazes at him. Sunny blushed looking at his new bride before he started to open his bags. “So, Bog, you’re an author?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, I wrote the Strange Magic books.” 

Sunny stopped what he was doing and stared. “You’re Bog King?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” 

Sunny shook his head with a big smile. “Man, I love those books.” 

Bog blushed, his voice soft. “Thank you.” 

That was the moment that everyone heard a loud voice. “HEELLOO!!! The Knight has arrived!!!” 

Marianne’s head shot up. She had been starting to go through her bags when she heard the voice. She whispered, turning around and exchanging a startled look with her sister. “Oh no...oh no, oh no, oh no…” 

They all heard loud footsteps walking down the hall. “Anyone here yet?!!” 

Marianne hissed with both shock and anger written on her face. “It can’t be!” 

Bog frowned moving over to Marianne. Her distress was clear, almost palpable. “Marianne, what’s wrong?” He hesitated before he very lightly touched her arm. 

Marianne took a step closer to Bog. It wasn’t that she needed protection or couldn’t handle this herself, but having someone beside her felt good. She looked up at Bog and whispered. “It’s my ex-fiance.” 

Bog frowned and blinked, whispering back. “They didn’t?” 

Marianne nodded, but before she could make any sort of response a shadow blocked the light from the doorway. 

“Well, now the party can start because I’m here!” Roland Knight walked into the bedroom with a wide grin. He was dressed in very tight white and black checked pants that left little to the imagination, a waist length white t-shirt with a waist length black jacket that was reminiscent of a biker jacket, along with a black and white scarf and highly polished black slip-on shoes. He grinned at everyone in the room, his too white teeth catching the light and threatening to blind everyone with its brilliance. 

Roland looked around the room, but just as Marianne feared, his eyes glued onto her. “Marianne? Is that really you? Oh my GOD!” Roland dropped his bags and rushed over to Marianne his arms out. Bog felt the young woman stiffen next to him. He glanced down to see all the color had drained from her lovely face. He wasn’t sure what to do to save her because it was clear that this Roland character was swooping in for an embrace, so Bog did the only thing that came to mind, he stepped in front of her at the last second. 

Roland crashed into Bog, his nose slamming into the slender man’s chest before he could stop himself. Roland made a sound that resembled a squeak before taking several steps back. 

“Fuck! My nose!!” Roland looked up with narrowed green eyes as he quickly checked his nose for injury. “Do you have any idea how much I paid for this nose?” 

Bog frowned, slightly confused. “No, I do not.” 

Marianne stood behind Bog, the man’s impressive height hiding her completely. She wasn't sure what to do. She was partly grateful, and partly angry because she could fight her own battles. She could have handled Roland trying to get a hug out of her. But she realized she was more grateful than upset. She wasn’t used to having someone, especially a stranger, step in and well...save her. 

Roland in the meantime growled at Bog. “Who the fuck are you? I thought this show was only for the young, gorgeous and famous, not the old, hideous and...well, I’m assuming washed up because I have no idea who the fuck you are.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. He knew Roland’s type, overly self-confident, egotistical--perhaps megalomaniacal--and incredibly vain. The blond man standing in front of him was the kind of man who thought more of himself and his accomplishments than anyone else did, who saw himself not only as good, but fucking perfect. Roland Knight was the type of person that Bog had dealt with all his life. The younger man was someone who did his best to make those who had less, feel like less. The worst part was that people like Roland Knight were usually catered to, with people throwing themselves at his feet in the hopes that some of whatever it was they thought Roland had would rub off on them, that somehow they would get fame or money or recognition just by being with him. Or worse, they truly believed that Roland Knight was as perfect as Roland Knight thought he was. Bog frowned, his eyebrows lowering a fraction. Roland Knight was also the sort to abuse the little bit of power he had. Bog hated that, hated anyone who abused their power, who tried to hurt those under them. Bog didn’t get into fights (at least, not since his adolescent years), but the urge to pop this pompous ass in the nose was strong enough that Bog rolled his fingers into fists. 

Bog very much wanted to turn around and ask Marianne why she had ever been engaged to someone like this. He had thought her the type of person who would be immune to a bawbag like Roland. Though he supposed everyone was weak at some point--look at him and Lonnie. He had been stupid and blind. Well, that would never happen again, Bog thought. He may write about love in his novels, but as far as he was concerned love was a lie. There was no such thing as true love or soul mates...at least not for a man like him. People just weren’t wired that way; vanity and foolishness, all of it. 

Bog focused his attention back on the bawbag in front of him. “My name is Bog King and I’m an author.” 

Roland frowned. “A what?” 

Bog sighed. “I write books.” 

Roland made a face. “What? They brought a guy who writes books on here? What the fuck?” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “Watch yer mouth.” 

Roland shook his head. “Whatever.” 

He stepped around Bog. “Marianne, what a surprise!” 

Marianne groaned deciding there was no point in continuing to hide behind Bog. “If I had known you were going to be on the show, I would have declined,” she said while tucking her hands under her arms to avoid both a hug and a handshake. 

Roland looked affronted. “Wow, way to hit below the belt Marianne.” He grinned though, a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe this is fate’s way of trying to get us back together?” 

Bog rolled his eyes, walking back over to his bed. “Or maybe it’s the producers’ way of getting more people to watch this cursed show in the hopes that you two will cause a great deal of watchable drama.” 

Marianne cringed. 

Roland ignored Bog, continuing to smile at Marianne. “Well, I see we are going to be sharing a room. That will be fun.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Oh no you don’t…” 

Roland grinned. “But there is one bed left and you can’t tell me where to sleep Marianne.” He walked back over to pick up his bag, dropping them on the bed next to Sunny in a defiant and smug manner. He looked over at Bog with a frown. “Hey ugly, trade with me so I can be closer to my fiancee.” 

Bog looked at Roland as if the younger man was a bug. “Unless Marianne asks me to, the answer is no.” 

Marianne glared at Roland. “The answer is no and I am not your fiancee.” 

Roland pouted. “Fine, I’ll just have to win the money and win you back as well Marianne.” He leered at her. “I’m sure the viewing audience will love to see our love story rekindled.” He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. Marianne wanted to throw something at him, preferably something heavy, but instead she thrust her fists into her bag. 

Marianne paled a little hissing at herself. Why was she letting him get to her? She took a breath and responded with a smirk. “You try anything Roland, we are all going to find out just how high a soprano can sing.” 

* 

The rest of the guests of the house came trickling in, from soap opera stars, a couple of Youtube personalities, actors, musicians, and athletes as well as Aura, Brutus, and Imp. After everyone had settled into their bed rooms, the cast was called into the living room. 

Bog was doing his best, smiling slightly, shaking oftered hands, but being around this many people in a small space was difficult for him. 

Marianne was feeling the same as Bog, though she didn’t realize it. Neither of them were aware that they were keeping close to each other, seeking protection and safety in each others presence. 

Dawn was in a huff when one of the guests, a swimsuit model, zeroed in on Sunny like a hungry wolf. 

“Oh my gosh, Sunny Benoit!! I’m just so excited to meet you!! I’m Angel Star. I’m sure you saw my swimsuit issue with Sports Illustrated.” The woman was taller than Dawn, with long honey colored hair that nearly matched her skin perfectly. She had perky little breasts to match her perfect perky little nose. 

Sunny avoided the hug the model tried to wrap around him by sticking out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

Angel frowned and took his hand, but Dawn shared a smile with Sunny, pleased with her new husband’s quick reaction. 

On the other side of the room with Bog and Marianne, Roland was doing his best to stick by Marianne, but his attention was obviously drawn to the numerous sexy young women who were part of the show. His eyes kept wandering around the room. Marianne smirked, thinking to herself, what an asshole. She glanced up at Bog who looked stiff. His lips were held in a thin line and she could see the tension around his eyes and mouth. The poor man was having a hard time. She slipped her hand in to his, startling him enough that Bog jumped. 

“Sorry, I ah, thought maybe we should go and grab a seat while everyone is still mingling. Maybe that one…if you don’t mind sitting with me, that is.” She pointed at a loveseat that could only hold two people. Bog saw the seat and sighed in relief. “That would be nice, thank you.” 

Marianne smiled and tugged his hand. “Come on.” She darted through the small crowd, quickly claiming the seat for Bog and herself. She dropped down and pulled him with her which forced Bog to drop into the cushion beside her, bumping her hip with is own. 

“Oh sorry,” he said quickly. 

Marianne smiled and released his hand. “Don’t worry about it.” She took a breath. “Well, this is uncomfortable, isn’t it, with all these people?” She smiled at Bog. 

He nodded. “I’m not used to this many people in such a small space. I...I don’t like crowds, which is why I’ve never done a book signing.” He blushed a little, starting to rub the back of his neck, but stopped when he realized might hit her with his elbow. He swallowed. “The last crowd I was in was an after Oscar party with my now ex-fiancee.” He murmured quietly, “One of the single worst experiences of my life.” 

Marianne frowned in sympathy. She had heard about the incident, but refused to watch the Youtube video of the breakup. She felt it was wrong and intrusive. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can make this experience better for one another.” She grinned, leaning close and whispered. “Form a secret alliance, you, me, maybe my sister and Sunny?” 

Bog smirked. “Already playing the game?” 

Marianne shrugged. “Not really, just seeking protection from Roland and the rest of these people.” 

Bog laughed and put his hand out to her. “Deal.” 

Marianne took his hand, again enjoying the feel of his hand in hers. “Deal.” 

That was when the screen behind the couch came to life showing the show's host, Pare Markets. “Hello house guests!!Everyone comfortable? Found your preferred bedrooms?” 

The crowd answered with affirmatives. 

Pare smiled. “Good, good. Now before we get started with our first challenge…” 

Everyone groaned, but Pare laughed. “Don’t worry folks, this isn’t an elimination challenge, but a prize challenge; we will get to that later. I’m not sure if any of you have noticed yet, but there should be one bed that is unoccupied.” 

Everyone murmured. Bog frowned, glancing at Marianne who shrugged in response. 

“That is because we have a special surprise guest that will be joining you all!” 

The front door clicked open. 

Everyone turned to watch as a curvy woman with light pink hair, wearing a dress so tight against her figure that it could have been a second skin, waltzed into the room. She grinned, her teeth too white and artificial looking, her voice high pitched as she laughed. 

“Surprise!!” 

Bog turned grey. 

Marianne looked at him, noticing the stiffening in his body next to hers. When she saw his face, she began to panic. “Bog? Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?” 

Bog hissed. “It’s Lonnie, my ex-fiancee.” 

Marianne’s eyes widened, turning toward the woman who several of the guests were greeting or exclaiming over. She paled and grabbed Bog’s hand. He held her hand tightly as they both whispered. 

“Fuck.”


End file.
